The Reflections of an Archer
by Sage of the Chuchus
Summary: Genji finds his brother in the midst of battle, hired as a mercenary by talon. By all appearances, the cyborg coaxed Hanzo to join Overwatch instead, though the archer's intentions may be different than they seem. Despite his new co-workers' best efforts, Hanzo still struggles with the idea of his brother's recovery and his own feelings of solitude.
1. Chapter 1

I

"Everyone shut up and sit down." A grizzled voice demanded, catching the attention of the four already in the room.  
Jack Morrison-Soldier 76- closed the door none-too-lightly and the resulting bang was enough to quiet any chatter that remained after his demand.  
They were in a conference room, underground but spacious. Smooth steel-grey panels lined most of the walls, as well as many holographic screens in bright orange and blue, though their glow was drowned out by the heavy florescent lights bearing down from the ceiling. A large oval table filled most of the floor space, with a projection set-up installed in the middle. Most of the chairs around the table were tucked in neatly, though a few scattered ones had been disrupted by the room's occupants.

Lena Oxton, hair spiked up as usual and her bomber jacket zipped over her uniform, cut out mid-laugh at the interruption and muffled a few more giggles behind her hand as she slid off from her seat onto the table into an actual chair.

The chronal accelerator usually strapped to her chest lay on the table near the projector, keeping her anchored to the present with its blue glow.  
Nearly fully armored in white plates sculpted to the shape of human muscle, Genji was as normal with the exception of the plate usually across his face and the swords at his back. They all lay beside the chronal accelerator, leaving his marred face and sharp eyes revealed to the others in the room. He was leaning against one of the walls, arms folded and one leg balanced on the toe behind the other.

Angela Ziegler had a teasing smile on her face, her wings without the orange feather-like projections at the moment. She was sitting at the table, at a bit of an angle on the chair to keep her wings off the back of it. Her attention turned to Jack quickly, waiting with the intent to finish up the discussion later.

"Howdy, Jack. A greetin' may have been nice." Jesse McCree smiled easily, his chair tilted onto its back legs and his feet resting on top of the table. His cowboy hat was worn low over his eyes and a small stream of smoke drifted out from under it, caused by the lit cigar in his mouth.

Jack glared at the former outlaw. "Greetings are a luxury for people that don't treat their workplace like their own coffee table."  
Instead of removing his feet, McCree simply shrugged the comment off with a "Fair point."

"I gather you've sent for us to send us on a mission, correct?" Angela prompted before the misconduct could into conflict of some kind.  
Jack nodded once, his silver hair and the mask over his flashing a bit in the bright lighting. "Yes. We've received word that Talon is going to make a push in Egypt, there is some important information stored in a base under the Temple of Anubis outside Cairo. You four are going to go intercept them and protect that intelligence. I'd send a bigger team but you're all I can spare since we're stretched so thin. Make it work, you know the consequences otherwise." Everyone present gave some form of acknowledgement, a tip of a hat or a nod. "One last thing. Talon may have a new high-threat individual. I've been informed that Widowmaker has been seen conversing with another assassin, though there weren't any specific details. Be on the lookout. Any other information you'll need is in the files that were just delivered to you. Move out, team. Don't get yourselves killed."

It was as close to a good luck as Jack would ever give them, and the Overwatch agents started to gather their belongings quickly. It was clear they were leaving soon, likely immediately.

* * *

"What sorta crazy person uses a bow and arrow nowadays?!" McCree's voice came on over the comm and Genji stopped in his tracks, his skidding kicking up a bit of the sand beneath him.

Lena's chuckle followed. "You're the one in a cowboy get-up, love."

Genji looked around him, the fountain he was near had a number of boxy buildings, some with domed roofs, surrounding it, with a lot of tarps and the like shadowing the area from the blistering sun. The small town provided living spaces for the archeologists uncovering the temple and surrounding tombs, as well as their families and the workers for the hidden facilities under the temple in excavated rooms. The smallest glint caught Genji's eye and he dove, tackling Doctor Ziegler, Mercy as she was known in the field, behind the fountain as a small burst of wood and shrapnel exploded behind them with a blue flash. "Angela! Stay down, keep to cover." Genji instructed, repeating the instructions over their comm to the others before he dashed out from the fountain and scaled the nearest wall with ease, emerging on a rooftop with a fair view of the surrounding area. It was tall, and looked over a small collection of boxy buildings and an impressive view of the ancient sand-worn temple.

At least the grand archway flanked by statues and obelisks that reflected ancient Egyptian architecture, all in white stone turned brown by the desert sands.  
Genji scanned the area, knowing the archer had been where he stood moments before.

When an arrow whizzed past his face and into the wall behind him he had a direction and leapt off the roof onto a shorter square one, running towards the arrow's origin. He was glad his cybernetic suit regulated temperature, he could tell it would be blistering on his artificial nerves without.

"-nk Reaper's here! I saw that black cloud he turns into!" Genji heard Tracer over the comm, though he was still intent on the archer. The others could hold their own, and it had to, HAD to be Hanzo sending the arrows their way. His brother was here, allied with Talon. With terrorists.  
Another arrow lodged itself in the Coleman beside Genji and he followed its trajectory, one thought penetrating his haste to get to his brother: Hanzo was not aiming to kill. He'd seen his brother shoot, and unless the gourd-turned-flask he kept at his waist all the time had finally addled some things, Hanzo would never hit so wide from his target.

Pausing at a stone doorway that led into a dim room lit by archeological lights, Genji caught the sound of footsteps and moved in, ignoring the cracked sandstone and leaping up a wall with no regard for the stairs until he saw his target running for the exit, though with an almost instant burst of speed Genji cut off that escape and finally looked his brother in the eyes.

Hanzo had changed. Visually, at least. He wore a thick brown coat with a stiff collar and many pockets. His quiver strung over the right shoulder. It was modern, functional clothing, and it seemed he'd abandoned the traditional garb he'd worn when Genji last saw him a few years prior when visiting the shrine in their childhood home. He'd been honoring the brother he beloved he'd killed, and the loneliness Genji had seen Hanzo wear there was almost more prominent now.

Also gone was his long hair, at least the sides of it. The top part of his hair remained tied back in a bun, Hanzo was now sporting an undercut, his short beard was trimmed, the little wing-like tufts in front of his ears gone, and Genji noticed the glint of piercings on the bridge of his nose and around his ears. His distinct scythe of bangs still fell down in front of his face, one of few things unchanged.

The transformation was surprising, Hanzo had always tended to keep his appearance aligned with conservative, and somewhat traditional customs. To see him now with shaved parts of his head and earrings was a shock, though not an unflattering one.

Acknowledging he wasn't going anywhere, Hanzo's expression was grim and proud. He had an arrow drawn and aimed at Genji's head, though he made no move to escape or free it.

"Hanzo, it is good to see you." Genji said gently, switching naturally into his native tongue. "Though, I was under the impression your aim was better than that."

"My aim is as it should be." Hanzo said firmly, in Japanese as well. His grey eyes narrowed at Genji's helmet in the low-ceilinged room. "I was merely accessing you."

"Of course." Without warning Genji lifted one of his legs in front of the other and then sank down onto the stone floor, his legs crossed and both hands resting on his thighs.

Hanzo scoffed, adjusting his aim to compensate. "I can't even tell if you're looking at me."

It was true, the visor over Genji's face obscured his eyes behind a glowing green 'v'. "Do you want to know?" That v was pointed up towards Hanzo's face, and Genji ignored the drawn arrow right beside it. "Or is it easier to see me as the machine you now claim me to be? I've noticed you refuse to even say my name."

"I've told you before," Hanzo growled, not missing a beat. "My brother is dead."

"I suppose that depends on how you define it. I have changed. My body is different now, though I still have a pulse. And I am more at peace than I ever have been, so I act less frivolously. But I am still Genji." The cyborg's speech was met with silence. "You've changed as well, Hanzo. Though you should know that no amount of shaving it off will hide the grey in your hair."

"It was never a matter of appearance..." Hanzo muttered, his eyes shifting slightly for less than a second.

Genji noticed the small device in his ear, and deduced Hanzo was being spoken to and chuckled, bringing the other man's attention back to him. "Yet you come here looking like a rebellious teenager infatuated with punk music."

The accusation was met with only more silence, Hanzo obviously listening to his comm or lost for a response.

"You should sit with me, Brother." Genji invited, the spitting image of his absent master.

"You fool. There is fighting outside and an arrow pointed at your face."

"I believe my team will be fine. Myself included. We brought along an excellent doctor."

"Are you mocking me?"

"No, brother. I only wish to talk with you."  
Hanzo's hand tightened on his bow, the tension in the room just as strong as that in the bow. "You actually trust them?"

"With my life. Over and over." Genji confirmed, almost eerie in his stillness. "They we're glad to welcome me, as they would be to welcome you, Hanzo."  
The elder's eyes shifted for a moment again, then slowly he lowered himself onto his knees and then sat in seiza, his bow resting just to the side and the arrow returned to its sheath.

"How many more years must pass before you forgive yourself?" Genji pressed, his voice soft. "I forgave you long ago, brother. And there would be no greater pleasure than fighting alongside you again. Overwatch needs allies, and you could make your name greater than even the Demon's." Genji was referencing 'Demon Hanzo,' a samurai remembered as a hero and known for his fearlessness in battle, as well as much more, being Hanzo Shimada's namesake a small thing on that list. His eyes distant, his hands in loose fists in his thighs, Hanzo seemed lost in deep thought. Genji gave him a moment before going on. "You mourn your brother and you mourn your honor, but it is within your power to reclaim both."

Finally Hanzo looked up. Silence fell once more, but Genji had learned patience, and eventually his brother spoke. "Perhaps," Hanzo said quietly, his expression still hardened, "It is time to try."

Genji smiled beneath his visor. "Then come with me."

* * *

Hello and thanks for reading! If you have any recommendations, question, comments, compliments, or critiques(anything at all) I'd love to hear them in a review. I can't improve without feedback.


	2. Chapter 2

II

Genji was good at tuning out background noise. Hadn't always been, but after all the time he'd spent with Zenyatta it came almost naturally. As such he'd been able to ignore the comm in his suit for the most part, listening only for words like 'hurt' or his name in the chaos that had been streaming to his ear. From what little he'd gathered, Reaper had been the only other Talon member present. Hanzo was likely there to pick off guards while the other meant to slip inside as the dark cloud he could turn himself to and get the information.

Without Hanzo's cover and with three Overwatch agents after him, that plan was somewhat unlikely to succeed. The others were waiting outside the enormous, castle-like wall with the smaller doorway into the village area. McCree was leaning against a wall facing the square opening, his hat low to keep out the sun and a cigar in his hand, though by the way Mercy was looking, he'd been forbidden to smoke it, probably by some sassy but practical comment on the doctor's part. Tracer was sitting at the feet of one of the colossal statues depicting the jackal-headed Anubis, her hands on her ankles.

Whatever lecture Mercy had been giving was interrupted by Tracer. "Genji, you caught the sniper! We were wondering where you went."

"If he's a prisoner then what in tarnation is he still doing with that bow of his?" McCree asked, returning the cigar to its pouch in favor of resting his hand on his revolver.

"He is not a prisoner." Genji said firmly, glancing back at his brother, who looked cool, proud, and indifferent, his eyes narrowed at all assembled against the sun as he took whatever information he sought in. "He is my brother. I have convinced him to come with us."

There were three separate and different reactions from the Overwatch agents. "You never told me you had a brother!" Was Tracer's, hopping up onto her feet with a grin.

McCree looked practically scandalized. "Your _brother_ is the one that shot my damn leg!?"

Mercy, anticipating their simultaneous outbursts, waited a moment and addressed Hanzo directly. "Nice to finally meet you, Hanzo." She smiled and extended a hand. "I am Doctor Angela Ziegler. I've seen your work before. It's pushed me to do some of the best of mine."

Genji noticed the nuance in her tone. She was being passive-aggressive, clearly holding it against the archer that Genji had been brought to her at a point of intended-death by Hanzo's hands.

Hanzo either disreguarded or was oblivious to the slight, ignoring her hand in favor of a stiff and small bow, more of a nod. Unfaltering in his silence, his impression was antisocial at best.

Tracer stepped nimbly around Mercy and grinned, mimicking the bow, though with more exaggeration. "I see the resemblance." She said, tilting her head with a smile. "Genji used to act just like you. All gruff and edgy." She deepened her voice for the last bit and folded her arms with a pout. "No worries, though. Glad to have you on-board! Hanzo, right?"

"Yes." Hanzo nodded to her, though his eyes were over her shoulder on McCree, who was talking to Genji in a hushed tone.

"My codename's Tracer, but you can call me Lena." She winked playfully. "You met Mercy, and that's McCree. Ship's this way, we'll be taking off soon."

Hanzo nodded. "I understand. Thank you..."

"No worries, love. Let me know if you need anything." Tracer saluted him with two fingers, then blinked out of sight, reappearing several feet away next to Genji and McCree. "He seems nice." She remarked to Genji.

"Really? He seemed like a bit of an ass to me." McCree scoffed, glancing at Genji. "No offense."

"You're just mad you got hit." Tracer teased.

"May be more mad I didn't get the chance to hit back."

"Challenge him to some table tennis later." Tracer giggled.

Genji chuckled as well. "I can only see that ending poorly." He shook his head. "But it would be entertaining."

"Suppose I should introduce myself." McCree sighed and slid away from others. Mercy was sitting at the base of one of the Anubis monoliths, a pocket edition of some German classic in her hand. McCree plopped down next to her and started talking to Hanzo.

"Must be nice to have your brother back." Tracer put her hand on Genji's shoulder, grinning.

"Yes..." Genji sighed. "It is. But Hanzo has not had a change of heart. He's had a change of plans."

Tracer's expression fell and her shoulders slumped. "You mean you don't trust him?"

"Think of the person you know best in the world... would you not be able to tell? Hanzo is proud and stubborn, he would not have given in so easily had he not seen some benefit to playing along. Please let the others know not to trust him with sensitive information."

"Sure thing, Genji... I'm sure he'll come around." Tracer smiled and patted his shoulder before she zipped away.

* * *

The next few days were strange for Hanzo, with a lot more human interaction than he was used to. Searched, then practically interrogated by a furious older man he still wasn't sure the name of but that seemed to be in charge, shown around a massive base, introduced to at least five more people that seemed to come and go quickly by the day, and given a sparse but moderately sized room of his own, Hanzo didn't know what to do with himself. Not trusted with missions and with no one to train him yet, he mostly spent his time alone contemplating things or out wandering.

Most other agents stayed out of his way or greeted him with the minimum to be considered polite. Some girl calling herself a diva did what he interpreted as intimidating/trying to establish dominance over him entirely in gamers' terms(some of them in Korean?) he didn't even pretend to understand. A few were more friendly than that. A sentient gorilla he was almost certain was named Winston invited the archer into his workspace for some peace from the few others that tried to force company. Hanzo learned Winston was a scientist and looked around the lab with some curiosity while the gorilla worked, offering answers to the few questions Hanzo asked and otherwise leaving the archer to himself, the one thing a certain someone else didn't seem to do.

Lena spent the most time around him, inviting him to all manner of games, competitions, and food places any of the Overwatch crew seemed to go to. He assumed out of good intent, though the sound of her zipping into existence behind him soon became a thing of annoyance, as none of the social activities ever sounded remotely appealing to him.

McCree also provided invitations, though far less frequently and mostly to bars, which Hanzo agreed to only twice. The cowboy was either sad or overly flirty with any of the women in the bar, and it didn't sit well with the archer to babysit

The other person he'd met on the first day, Mercy, was never around and he was glad for it. Being a doctor she was always in the medical wing or on missions.

Asides from that he'd met a massive German man that seemed kind and old, but loud and not entirely trusting, the silver-haired man that yelled at Genji for bringing Hanzo when they first arrived, and a very short and defensive man overly interested in turrets.

Genji was away most of the time, so Hanzo didn't have to worry about avoiding the cyborg much, which was fine with him.

He was gathering information bit by bit, patient enough to wait to plan and make his move. Talon had payed huge money to him as a mercenary assassin, they'd pay more for the intimate details of Overwatch's headquarters. He was largely unimpressed, the agents were just as much a mismatched group of idealists as they looked, not near as formidable as the group once was during the omnic crisis.

So on it went for over a week, Hanzo seemed to speak less than enough to fill a paragraph the entire time, until the day he met Zenyatta.

The monk was just... floating down the hall like it was the most normal thing in the world. It was an omnic, dressed in loose, traditional, appropriately monkish clothing Hanzo knew belonged to the band of peace-seeking omnics he'd heard mention of in passing.

Hanzo believed they would pass each other without interaction when the omnic spoke, his serene-looking face turned to the archer. "Peace be upon you. You must be Hanzo, the resemblance to your brother is clear."

A comparison to the cyborg was not what Hanzo had been expecting, and a snarl was on his lips at once. "There is no way you could form such a conclusion from such a disfigured face."

"It is not my student's face I compare to you, but his soul. You carry sadness in the same way." Unassuming and still, hands gently steepled, the robot seemed unfazed by Hanzo's clear irritation as he went on. "My name is Zenyatta. You should join me someday. I have set aside a space here for meditation and reflection, you would be welcome."

"I don't think so, omnic. If I desire to meditate, I shall create my own place for it."

"You must choose your own path. However, you are still welcome to join me at any time, Hanzo. May the Iris soothe your woes." The monk's head tilted, as if in sincerity, before he drifted on past a bewildered Hanzo.

That was not the strangest invitation Hanzo got his second week either. Lena had come to him, of all people, in a breathless huff with begging eyes. "Hanzo! Do you know anything about baking?" She'd asked as urgently as if it were a life-and-death assignment from the silver-haired soldier running the place.

Stunned but the abrupt and random question, Hanzo shook his head. "No. Nothing."

"Oh... that's too bad. I'd hoped... well, would you mind helping me out anyway? Please?" Lena grinned sheepishly and tilted her head. "Everyone else is busy or out, except for Zen, but I didn't want to interrupt him..."

The last several days having been utterly uneventful, Hanzo was actually willing to consider the errand, though his voice was just as gruff and disinterested as ever. "What exactly are you asking of me?"

"Well, I'm set to travel back home in a few hours and I really, really need to bring a pie back with me." She explained. "I promised Emily I'd make one for her birthday..." Hanzo had no idea, nor did he care, who Emily was. "But I don't have any of the ingredients yet and I've never really baked before. I'd really appreciate some company and a second opinion." At the heart of it, she looked at Hanzo hopefully, a genuine smile on her features. "Plus, you've been so quiet and gloomy. It would get you outside, and I'd love to get to know you more!"

Hanzo stared back, his eyes narrowed. Without his heavy coat he wore a practical hoodless jacket, black, with his hair still up asides the few locks he left over his face. He sighed, considering his boredom and growing restlessness. "You'd gain little from knowing me, but if there's truly no one else, I will go."

"That's the spirit! Well, not quite, but I'll take what I can get." Lena grinned. "Thanks a ton, love. I know you don't do people much."

"Do you at least have a recipe to work with?" Hanzo asked, not caring to delve into his introverted tendencies.

Tracer started checking pockets, taking the transition in stride. "I do, yeah. Just a moment."

On the way to the store Hanzo learned that Emily was Lena's partner of almost 2 years, that the agent's favorite music genre was punk, that she had been a pilot, and that she liked the color yellow. He didn't ask for any of the information, but with his usual minimalistic approach to speaking Tracer picked up the slack with a smile.

They split up the list of ingredients and tacked the store half and half, Hanzo getting done considerable more quickly and efficiently, with far fewer extra items. Lena had even grabbed a cart, though the items could have fit easily into a basket like the one Hanzo had grabbed.

Looking over the extra things in her cart, Hanzo noticed and extracted a bright green bag covered in Japanese with a large picture of a melon taking up most of the space on it. "Can you even read any of this?" He asked doubtfully.

"Nope! Not really, but I know it's candy. Genji always asks for them them." She explained. "I can grab you some too, if you'd like! There were other flavors. Strawberry and mango and... well there were a lot."

"No." Hanzo dropped the bag back in, looking at the candy as if it had bitten him. "I don't waste my time with candy."

"Oh, I see." Lena said with exaggerated sincerity, barely holding back a grin. "Too adult for candy. No worries, I think we have some coffee as black and bitter as your soul at the base."

"I prefer tea."

"Now that I can help you with." Lena grinned. "We have loads of tea from all over the world. C'mon, let's get checked out, unless you need anything else?"

"Nothing." Hanzo quickly surveyed all the lines and self-checkout kiosks, choosing the one with the shortest wait easily and leading her over to it. "I hope you don't expect me to pay for these..."

When they got back the actual pie-making went better than Hanzo expected. Lena did most of the work, Hanzo just reading the instructions carefully and correcting her as he saw fit.

It went well until the pie was in the oven and Lena, attempting to put a heavy sack of flour on a high shelf, accidentally let it sleep through her hands, the flour falling to the floor and exploding into a cloud across the kitchen.

Hanzo, having been standing behind her, took a face-full of the stuff and started coughing heavily, his lungs stinging sharply at the unwelcome baking ingredient.

"I'm so sorry, Hanzo!" Lena gasped, turning around and surveying the damage. After a moment of hesitation she blinked over at one of the cupboards and grabbed a glass, filling it with water and actually walking back to him, putting a hand on his shoulder as he continued coughing despite his best efforts. Lena held the glass until he was actually able to sip at it and she passed the glass over readily.

"I really didn't mean to..." she said quietly, her hand shifted down to his arm. "Are you alright, Hanzo?"

"I am fine." He managed, his voice a bit rough from soreness rather than his usual irritation. "I'm surprised nothing similar happened earlier."

"You're not mad are you?"

Hanzo looked at her, his face completely straight. "Your assassination attempt was too pitiful for me to be anything anything but indifferent."

"Assassina- what? Hanzo, no! I would never-" Lena cut off, noticing the small smirk on his lips. "Oh... you were kidding?" She asked, hopeful.

"Yes. It was clearly an accident. But an inconvenient one." Hanzo sighed, brushing a bit of the flour off his black shirt, though he gave up very quickly and took a slow sip of the water instead. "I dislike washing my clothes more than necessary, it seems there's always someone else that feels the need to occupy the room at the same time as me."

"I'm sorry, love. It's a public area. Not many ways to get around it." Lena patted his shirt a few times half-heartedly, getting only a tiny bit of the flour off. "I bet if you glared hard enough it would scare most of them away."

The timer for the oven beeped and Lena started, turning around. "Better get that..."

"I shall get a broom."

* * *

Thanks for reading! Please leave feedback, critical or kind. The more detail the better I can improve my writing!

Chapters will probably continue to be short, as this is a side hobby I do with spare time at work or on the bus.


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